The Drunken Charades Of Fighters And Navigators
by Blossom Utonium
Summary: The Drunken Charades of Horny Fighers and Navigators... ABELxKEELERxCAINxENCKE


**A/N: Um, so I'm just gonna put this out there right now – I'msofuckinghornyrightnowwhich iswhythishappened;/; Sorry about that, but like really :I Anywhooo~~ here is a 'charming', smut-filled fic for you little pervs – enjoy ;)**

* * *

"Cain? Cain, you in?" Abel peeked through the threshold of his and Cain's room and grinned to himself when he found it empty. "All clear, Sir!"

Abel shuffled in, dragging a chuckling Keeler in behind him, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle manic giggling. "Don't call me 'Sir', I'm not _that_ uptight; I'm not Encke!"

They both outright laughed at this, stumbling over onto the conjoined mattresses on the floor. They were both shit-faced. As a favour to Abel, Praxis had got his hands on a dozen bottles of bitch pops and straight vodka, a third of which they had downed in a mad attempt to forget their asshole Fighters.

They had previously been discussing how their Fighters' treated them, and Abel wasn't surprised to hear they were screwing; what he was surprised about, on the other hand, was that he treated Keeler like a china doll under the blankets. Keeler went on to explain that he wasn't some marble woman and wouldn't shatter under his touch, but Encke refused to be any rougher than he felt necessary. A nice thought – but it just didn't do it for Keeler.

Keeler liked to be fucked until he was red, raw and aching.

Abel agreed, but explained his position was quite the opposite. Not that he always minded having his cute little arse pounded into submission, but it got tiring, both physically and mentally.

When they landed on the plush duvets, crudely sewn together when Cain demanded that they should share a bed, their giggling faded down into breathy pants. Abel had fallen on top of Keeler, a thigh on each side of his superior's. He was leaning over slightly, his beautiful blue eyes skimming over the lithe man's torso.

A lump formed in the younger's throat that he found he was simply unable to swallow.

Was Abel really thinking about doing this? Leaning down and capturing this gorgeous man's lips with his own? Could he really do that to Cain?

But when Keeler bit his lip, grabbed the collar of Abel's jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss, he found himself short of caring. He groaned into the kiss when thin fingers slowly drifted from that smooth collar to the bare, pale skin of his neck.

Abel knitted his eyebrows together and groaned, having never been treated with such care before. The fingers only ghosted over his burning flesh, making him crave more. Cain never wasted time on foreplay, much preferring the shocked and pained expressions Abel would produce, his strangled cries ringing in the raven's ears, the salty tears that would caress heated cheeks all combined for a lusty Cain.

But the feather soft touches of Keeler's soft, peach hands was just as arousing as the rushed sex he shared with his Fighter.

Keeler smiled warmly, coming away from the kiss, his cheeks and the tip of his nose rosy from alcohol as his palms traced indistinguishable patterns on Abel's nape, wetting his own plump lips as his eyes glistened with want.

Unlike Cain, Keeler revelled in the lewd gasps and breathy sighs Abel made, wanting oh so much to make the younger blonde produce more. And in his desperate attempt to make Abel squirm above him, Keeler painfully dragged out his movements, letting his fingertips trace over Abel's collarbone, his brows furrowing a little when he took note of the small purple markings and welts that littered the shorter Navigator's upper torso and shoulders. He was undoubtedly Cain's Navigator.

Keeler's eyes wandered from the hickies to Abel's lips, or more accurately, the scar on his lips. The pretty blonde matched his creased eyebrows with a deep frown as he drunkenly slurred, "you don't suit scars," and pecked the paper white mark.

Abel blushed and screwed his eyes shut, memorizing the feel of Keeler's soft, warm lips against his own, instead of the cracked, rough lips that would usually cause his to puff up swollen by the forcefulness of his kisses. Abel decided he liked this more. He liked being treated gently for once. After all, slow and steady wins the race…

Abel's ocean blue eyes slowly opened to see Keeler staring right at him intently. He still had his lips pressed firmly against the minor's, as if trying to soothe away the mangled skin. The thought made his heart flutter.

Sex with Cain was adrenalin-pumping, but he was sure sex with Keeler would be everything he wanted Cain to give, even if the ebony haired man never would.

Well, he assumed so anyway. He wasn't entirely certain that was where they were headed, but it was a nice thought.

Keeler's hands continued to rub small circles along Abel's collarbone and shoulders, wanting badly to make those ugly marks disappear into the younger's creamy flesh. His fingers began to drift lower, tucking under the fabric and peeling it away to reveal a bare chest. Somewhere amongst the third and fourth bottle of vodka it had vanished even though his jacket had never been removed.

Soft giggles erupted from Abel when Keeler rubbed the skin around his ribcage, causing them to once again break apart. Keeler's smile returned, "didn't know you were ticklish," he mused, pressing his fingers down a bit harder on Abel's sides, making him burst out in drunk laughter, which ended up in a squirming mess of tangled limbs and hoarse throats from laughing too hard.

Eventually their fit calmed to only a few stifled chuckles and Abel noticed just how truly beautiful his commander was. That long, pastel blonde hair, ever-so-neatly tied up into a thick braid, small tufts having come loose due to all the moving around that had occurred; the table-dancing being a great example. Keeler's baby blue eyes, which seemed to tear all his walls down and leave him naked in the face of beauty. His flawless, pale pink flesh which seemed to be just as smooth as his rose blushed lips, the bottom still being held captive between his pearly teeth as he stared up at Abel.

It was blatantly obvious that they had been drinking by the heavy red cheeks and the thin red veins making his eyes appear softly bloodshot. His breath smelt like gone-off-lemonade and something minty that Abel couldn't quite put his finger on. It was exhilarating.

Abel had a very thin figure, skinny waist and pointed hipbones. There was barely any meat on his bony body. On the complete opposite hand, there was Keeler. Still thin, but the dip of his belly looked more healthy in comparison. He had rounded hips and full thighs – he had curves, and god were they sexy.

Keeler appeared to get bored and irate quickly in the fairly long pause of silence, yanking Abel down by the fabric of his jacket that had pooled at his wrists, for another heated make-out session.

Tongues rubbed together, teeth clashed and lips moulded to one another in an animalistic rush of lush. Keeler's hands found Abel's reasonably taut chest, rubbing soft circles downwards until he found two pretty pink nipples. Smirking devilishly into the kiss, Keeler wasted no time taking one between a thumb and forefinger and pinching it until it was bright rouge and Abel was crying out with need into the kiss.

Once again, Keeler found himself creasing his brows. He shook his head, making Abel break away from the kiss, panting hard. "Did I do something wrong?" He asked, his eyes widening in panic.

Keeler shook his head and gave a serious expression. "No, you're doing great. But I want you, now."

* * *

**A/N: OOOH I'm gonna leave it there for now, I WILL continue this over the next week, this will end up in a probable four-to-fivesome maybe with toys- IDEK ;D Okay, bye for now! Poppy**


End file.
